


I Saw You

by Ravenflaw



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/F, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenflaw/pseuds/Ravenflaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had never understood beauty, until she met Jo Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fic.  
> Ever.  
> Try to be kind

Sherlock had never understood 'beauty'. She saw vanity certainly, plastered around every advertisement, evident in every face cream, balm, powder, serum and whatever else there was aimed at the aging middle-class. Sherlock personally didn't have an issue with aging, and the inevitability of death. It was what was biologically required to occur.  
But in Jo, she saw beauty. In this semi dark room, cold and damp (Mrs Hudson was having issues with the boiler man - she kept feeding him her prized almond sponge, so he kept 'fixing' it, then returning when it broke again. Typical.) Sherlock could have fixed it in 10 minutes AND be offered the almond sponge, which she and Jo would share, anytime Mrs Hudson popped down to visit.

But, of course, she couldn't. Not anymore. Not after she died.

So now she was left to sneak into (yes sneak) into the flat and watch her former flatmate sleep. Or try to sleep.  
Sherlock saw beauty in Jo's light brown hair falling over her face, pale and drawn in the darkness.  
Watched as it fluttered gently with each slow breath.  
Counted the freckles on Jo's cheeks. Her slightly crooked nose, broken in some past combat Sherlock didn't know about, adding to her face, her body. Her Jo-ness.  
Lips slightly parted, cracked and dry. Dark rings, worry creases at her eyes, the dark eyelashes accross her cheek.

Sherlock raised two fingers to Jo's face, and barely registered the trembling. Ghosting over her eyes, nose, pausing above those lips.  
Saw the nails, bitten down past the quick. Bloodied and raw. Sherlock flinched.  
Saw the patches of thinning hair, ripped out in the grips of some nightmare. She slowly brought her hand away from Jo's face and touched her own, forcing down whatever was building up in her, a wave in her chest, and choked on a sob .

Sherlock couldn't remember the last time she cried.


End file.
